


saturn

by solasta



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, the aftermath fic no one asked for, this might turn into an ot3 fic but i make no promises
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23778247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solasta/pseuds/solasta
Summary: He’d never understood it before. Grief. At least not really. Not completely. Sure, he tried his best to be there for John B when he lost his father. He was there when it happened. Not just as a spectator either. But as a shoulder to cry on. A comforter. A friend. So after all of that, he thought he understood.But absolutely none of it prepared him for this. Nothing could.Pope felt empty.--the leftover members of the pogues deal with john b and sarah's 'death'.
Relationships: JJ/Pope (Outer Banks)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 140





	1. night one (part 1)

He’d never understood it before. Grief. At least not really. Not  _ completely _ . Sure, he tried his best to be there for John B when his own father was lost, then officially presumed dead, then officially confirmed  _ murdered _ . He was there when it happened. Not just as a spectator either. As a comforter. A friend. So after all that, he thought he understood. 

But absolutely none of it could prepare him for this. Nothing could. 

Pope felt empty. 

He thought that that was how he felt after he lost the chance at his scholarship. That the dark regret and anger he was consumed by was what empty felt like. That it was  _ nothing _ , because he felt nothing  _ good _ . But now he’d do anything to get that anger back. To feel something properly. Because now he’s just… numb. 

He’s looking down mindlessly at the shifting light flickering on his lap as they pass the newly relit streetlights on their drive home, but he’s not really seeing it. And he knows logically that his father’s old beat up pickup truck is purring all around them like a beast as they move but… he can’t  _ feel  _ the vibration. He can barely even hear the sound. He can barely feel the warmth of his own hands where they’re clenched together in his lap. Nothing.  _ Nothing _ , but—

The warmth of JJ’s arm against his. 

He can feel that. He doesn’t remember when it got there, but he can feel it. 

Pope finally shifts his gaze to glance at the small inch of space where they connect. They’re both wet and sticky with rain and sweat and grim from the day, and their skin is practically glued together with it. Honestly, JJ’s touch should be revolting right now. They probably both need to shower. 

… Pope doesn’t think he could bring himself to shower right now. 

He swallows thickly as he moves his gaze back to his lap, to the hands he still has clenched right there. 

The car stops. 

They’re at his house. 

“Alright, son, you and your Mama can go inside. I’ll give you a ride to yours, JJ.” His dad is gently saying the words but it takes Pope a second to recognize them. Honestly, he notices the way JJ stiffens against him at even the very mention of home first. That puts the pieces together. Because he’s always noticed the way JJ braces himself as if going to war at even the thought of going back to his house. The way he does it anyways. Always braver than anybody else. Braver than he needs to be. Braver than Pope is pretty sure he would be in the same situation. 

Braver than Pope thinks he should have to be tonight. After everything. 

JJ… shouldn’t have to be that brave _ right now _ . 

Pope flicks his tongue over his chapped lips for a moment, carefully picking his words before he’s saying, “... Is it safe for you to be driving in the storm, Dad?” 

His father turns in his seat to look back at him. His mother is already half out of the car and waiting. She doesn’t have a raincoat on. The storm is soaking right through her clothes. 

“I’ll manage, son.” His father replies with an arched brow before he’s gesturing to JJ with a nod. “I’m sure JJ’s father is wondering where he is.” 

He definitely isn’t. He’s probably high off his ass or drunk off his ass or  _ both _ . He probably doesn’t even know his son is  _ gone _ . 

Pope’s hands clench in his lap. 

Oh. So he’s still got a bit of anger left. 

He can feel JJ’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t return the look just in case he wants him to stop. Because JJ’s always out here protecting everybody. Not always… in the best way, but he tries. 

Who’s protecting JJ?

“... Can he stay the night Dad? We can call.” Pope offers, and his father gives him that look. That look that already says no before his lips do. But Pope is too tired for that look. Too tired to fight anymore. He feels like he’s spent… the past decade fighting. He just wants to go to bed, and he can feel his shoulders slump with that exhaustion as his dad's gaze shifts. “ _ Please _ .” 

His father looks between him and JJ and Pope kind of wonders what he sees. What they both look like right now. He can’t imagine it’s anything good. 

“Listen, Mr. Heyward, it’s alright, you don’t have to—“ JJ starts, but Pope finally unclenches his hands to grab the arm that’s still against his. JJ stops speaking around the time that Pope’s hand closes around his forearm and that’s when Pope’s mother hits his father on the arm from where she’s poked her head in through the passenger door. His father sighs. It’s a deep, tired thing. 

  
  


“... Alright, alright. You can stay, JJ. Until the storms over.” His mother hits his father again. Dad’s jaw drops as he gives Ma a bewildered look, but at the arch of her brow he’s adding. “... Sorry. S’long as you want.”

Pope finally turns to JJ just to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid and insist they bring him home. But JJ only nods. 

“Thank you, sir.” JJ replies, all respectfully. And it’s real respect too. Pope can tell from the way his jaw clenches. From the grateful gleam in his eyes.

Pope…. never really thought that his dad was anything too special. He wasn’t the kindest man or the coolest or the most understanding. But the idea that he… might be something special to JJ makes him reconsider his perspective. 

“It’s no trouble.” His father says gruffly as he opens his own door. Pope glances out the window to find his mother waiting by his door for him. As if his grief is going to make his knees buckle under him like the movies and she needs to be there to catch him just in case. The mental image would be kind of funny if Pope didn’t still have a vivid memory of how he crumpled into her arms just hours ago. 

It’s her expectant look that makes him remember his hand on JJ’s arm. He let’s go quickly, gaze flicking to JJ as he opens his mouth to apologize but his father cuts him off. “Now let’s all get out of this storm and inside. We’ll catch our fuckin’ death out here.” 

JJ is getting out of the car before him. 

Pope is so busy rushing to follow that he doesn’t notice the look on JJ’s face as he glances back at him. 

+

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

It’s the first thing that JJ says when they’re alone. Pope expected it. He barely acknowledges his words as he moves to dig through his drawers for something for JJ to sleep in. He’s dead on his feet honestly. He would sleep in the clothes he has on now if they weren’t so wet. 

“You were going to go home.” Pope replies simply. He’s not looking up but he can feel JJ’s eyes on him again. His back almost feels warm with it. It’s like the warmth of JJ’s body heat in the truck just followed them into the house like a shadow. 

“Yeah, cause I have to.” JJ replies just as Pope finds a shirt with only one hole in it and a pair of basketball shorts. He’s never played, but the attire is comfortable. 

“Not tonight. Or any time soon for that matter. You heard my dad.” He gets to his feet and moves to give both items to JJ. It’s a second before JJ takes them. Their fingers brush on the trade off. 

JJ stares down at the clothes for a moment and Pope stares down at them too for lack of anything else to do. JJ nods a second before he’s turning his back and taking off his wet shirt. Pope doesn’t look away. Instead he studies his bruises. The ones from Midsummers have faded and gone but the one’s from Cat’s Ass are still there on his sides. Yellowing with age but still there. It’s like he exchanged old bruises for new ones. Pope wonders if he can convince JJ to stay long enough that they all completely heal. Long enough that he has no bruises or cuts or anything since… maybe ever.

He’ll have to try. Cause it’s not like he can stay at John B’s anymore, and--

The very thought of his name is like dousing himself in cold water, and the numbness is right there with it. Pope chokes on an inhale, and ends up breathing a bit too fast to compensate. He might be hyperventilating a bit. Right there in the middle of his bedroom. 

“... thanks. Y’know for convincing your dad.” JJ is speaking but Pope is barely hearing any of it. He is staring unseeingly at a now clothed JJ when he turns back around. The movement pulls him back to the present and they make eye contact. Pope’s eyes are wet, and his chest is heaving, and JJ’s eyes widen before they soften. “Bro, are you--?” 

Pope is shaking his head before JJ can even finish the sentence, because he isn’t. And he knows JJ isn’t either, and that Kie probably isn’t where she’s holed up in her mansion by herself, and John B definitely isn’t, Sarah either--

“...  _ Hey _ .” Pope misses the bit between JJ being a few feet away from him and him suddenly being in JJ’s arms, but that’s okay. JJ is dry and he smells like the laundry detergent Pope’s mother uses, but most importantly he’s solid. And  _ warm _ . He has a hand cupping the back of Pope’s head, and another tight around his torso and Pope feels it. He feels it. Pope wraps his arms around him in return after a moment of simply drinking in the comfort and shamelessly clings to JJ like his life depends on it. Hot tears run down his cheeks and soak the shoulder of JJ’s fresh shirt, and it takes a minute for Pope to realize that JJ is crying too. It’s in the shake of his shoulders. In the warm wetness of his breath against the crook of Pope’s neck. 

They must be a sight the way they are now. Sobbing and holding each other in the middle of Pope’s too small room. Clinging to each other like children. 

Pope tries to convince himself that it’s okay. That grief is ugly. 

But he’s not sure anything is ever going to be okay again. 


	2. night 1 (part 2)

JJ was used to hurting. It was just something that became his reality a bit earlier than others. He was used to bruises. To cuts. Hell, he was even used to broken bones.

But this? 

This was something different. And he could barely explain it. Because contrary to popular belief, JJ had had his heart broken before. Multiple times, in fact. By his mother, when she left. By his father every day after. By… other people. 

But knowing that John B was just… gone? It didn’t feel like heartbreak. It felt like his heart had just been ripped straight out of his chest. Like there was just a John B sized hole left in its place. 

He couldn’t explain it, but he could tell you this:

It hurt more than anything his dad had ever done to him. 

\+ 

“What are you doing?” Pope asks in blatant confusion. JJ’s pretty confused himself.

JJ has never slept over at Pope’s before. He’s never really needed to. Usually they both slept over at John B’s. 

JJ can feel his heart clench with the thought and the memories it provokes. His eyes sting and he instinctively shifts his jaw to attempt to stifle the feeling. To try to not stand at the foot of Pope’s bed and cry like a bitch again. Hell, his eyes still feel hot and achy from the crying they just finished doing in the middle of Pope’s room. He didn’t think he had any tears left in him. 

“Uh… where do you want me to sleep?” JJ finally mumbles, and Pope blinks at the question. His brows furrow as he studies JJ for a few moments. 

“Uh…” Pope looks down at the floor between them from where he’s laying in his bed. His floor is neat for a dude, but JJ doesn’t know what else he expected from Pope. It’s clean, but there isn’t a lot of it. Pope’s room is tidy and well organized, but distinctly small. “I don’t think there’s enough room for you to camp out on the floor. And I mean, we have a couch but it’s a piece of shit.” 

“... Oh.” JJ would wonder why Pope invited him over if he didn’t have anywhere for him to sleep but… he’s too grateful for the opportunity to look a gift horse in the mouth or whatever. Because as long as he was here, he didn’t have to deal with his father’s brand of pain on top of the hurting he was already drowning in. Even if he had to sleep on the Heyward’s porch he--

“You could just hop in here with me.” Pope says with an easy shrug, and at first JJ doesn’t quite register the words, nodding along like Pope just said something run of the mill like he could turn off the light if he wanted to or open the window for a smoke. 

It takes a second for JJ to register that Pope just suggested he slide into bed with him, and it’s about then that he goes from absently nodding to not moving at all. 

He can only blink dumbly at Pope after the offer. Pope just said it… so bluntly. Like it was nothing. Like he and JJ had slept in the same bed a bunch of times before. 

They haven’t. 

“Uh…” JJ says eloquently, because that is apparently pretty much the only thing that JJ’s brain can produce at this moment. He can tell that Pope is getting more and more self conscious the longer that he remains silent. He’s starting to squirm under JJ’s gaze, hands clenching in the comforter over his lap, lips pulling down into a frown. JJ would feel bad if his tongue wasn’t frozen over. 

“What? Is it that weird?” Pope asks and there’s some defensiveness under his tired monotone. The knot that is JJ’s tongue finally loosens. 

“ _ No _ . No, it… it’s not fuckin’ weird, man. Sorry--” JJ starts but Pope is already looking away from him, gaze somewhere around JJ’s socked feet.

“It’s whatever. If you don’t want to…” Pope pauses a second before he’s finally glancing at JJ and adding, “Like, if you’re uncomfortable, then I can take the couch, it’s not that bad--” 

“No! Dude, I’m not, I swear, I-- look!” JJ jumps into bed with Pope before he can think better of it, the springs squeaking underneath him as he rushes to throw the blanket over himself. Pope is blinking at him in surprise as JJ lays there beside him, looking up at him with Pope’s threadbare blanket pulled up to his chin. JJ has to clear his throat for a second to dispel any awkwardness, before he says, “See? Totally good.” 

Pope blinks at him for another moment before he’s nodding, his eyes still a bit cautious as he says, “... Alright. As long as you’re sure.” 

Pope has to reach over him to turn off his bedside lamp, and the bed is so small that just that movement has Pope pretty much on top of him. Despite everything, JJ feels his breath catch a bit at that. He ends up holding his breath as Pope struggles with his finicky lamp, until it’s suddenly dark around them, and JJ has to feel Pope’s warmth pulling away rather than see it. 

He takes in a deep shuddering inhale as Pope shifts to get more comfortable, the springs of the bed squeaking with every movement. As the bed ripples and bounces beneath him, JJ busies himself with studying the little glow and the dark stars on Pope’s ceiling. He’d never noticed them before. Granted, he’s maybe been in Pope’s room maybe ten times tops since knowing him. But still. Y’think he’d remember them. 

Pope finally stills then. JJ decides to count to the glowing stars on Pope’s ceiling. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but it’s long enough that JJ thinks Pope has maybe fallen asleep. He hasn’t. 

“... G’night, JJ.” Pope says it so quietly that JJ isn’t even sure he heard him right at first. He turns his head on the pillow to face him, and he gets an eyeful of the back of Pope’s head for it. He’s still enough that he could be dead maybe. JJ heart clenches at the very thought. 

“Go the fuck to bed, Pope.” JJ whispers gently in return, and he almost thinks he hears Pope snort. Or choke a bit. One of the two. His lips twitch at the thought, but it’s a bittersweet thing. It almost hurts. 

It suddenly occurs to JJ that every smile after John B is probably gonna hurt. That every laugh without him is gonna kill like hell. That this is his life now. 

Pope’s back blurs before his wet eyes, but this time JJ gives into the urge to cry. Because no one can see him. No one but John B, maybe, if you believe in all that crap about heaven and that sadist we call god and the dead watching over you seeing you fuck shit up. If you believe in all that then his best friend is looking down at him from the storm clouds, watching him bawl his eyes out like a baby. 

JJ quickly decides he hates the idea. If John B’s gonna see him fuck up, he’d rather it be in person. 

+

_ It’s cold. And wet. And the sea water is slapping him in the face with the fierceness of real hands. With viciousness and anger that’s almost familiar. And it hurts. It hurts so much. But JJ keeps reaching anyways. Leaning over the side of the boat, reaching down to where he can see John B reaching back for him in return.  _

_ Their hands are so close but so far away. He’s almost got him and he’s never going to get him at the same time. It’s infuriating. It’s  _ **_terrifying_ ** _.  _

_ ‘JJ!’ _

_ JJ can see his name on John B’s lips but he can’t hear him over the crash of the waves. He grits his teeth and leans further over the side of the boat for him. He’s on the tips of his toes now. He could fall any moment. He doesn’t care.  _

_ “John B grab my hand!” JJ is yelling so loudly that his throat feels raw with it, and yet he still can’t even hear himself over the storm. He can’t hear anything but the consistent roar, but he doesn’t need to hear anything to continue to read the words on John B’s lips. They’ve known each other too long for that.  _

_ ‘JJ help!’ The desperation on John B’s face takes the breath right out of JJ’s lungs. He reaches further, further, further still. Toes lifting off the ground but one hand anchored on the railing as he reaches, reaches, reaches. Their hands touch finally, fingers brushing and then locking onto each other for an instant. JJ gasps in relief then, pulls to try and get a better grip on John’s hand but it’s too soon. It’s all too soon. Cause the ocean suddenly really does have hands, and arms, and fingers, and it’s pulling John B away, it’s dragging him down with them, and JJ tries to grab on to John B with both hands so he can at least go with him, but John B’s hand slips right out of his, like nothing before he can stop it, before JJ can stop anything, and JJ can’t hear his own sobs but he can feel them. _

_ “John B!” The saltwater stings his eyes cruelly as he tries to jump ship, to go after his friend, to save him. But the watery arms of the ocean hold him back. They keep him pinned so he can still watch John B down there, open mouthed, screaming, reaching for his help but he can  _ **_only_ ** _ watch. He can’t protect him. He can’t do anything. He can’t do  _ **_anything--_ **

_ “John--!” _

\+ 

  
  


“--B!” JJ wakes up with his best friend’s name on his tongue and a hand on his chest shaking him awake. He flinches instinctively, pulling away from the hand Pope has over his heart as he desperately gasps for breath. He can’t see Pope in the dark but he can’t feel his hand anymore either. He knows he pulled back. He knows he’s hesitating now. And JJ hates it. 

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly against the fear still pulsing through his veins, against the fresh shame he’s added on top of it. He’s half sat up in Pope’s bed and he’s covered in cold sweat and his eyes are still stinging, like the saltwater really was real, like John B really did--

“...JJ, are you okay?” Pope asks, and again his voice is so quiet. It’s like the angry, reckless version of Pope from the past couple days is some sort of distant memory. Honestly, maybe it is. Maybe--

“Was it…” JJ is afraid to open his eyes, so he doesn’t. “Was it all a dream? A… a nightmare or some shit? Everything with… JB?” Pope is quiet after JJ chokes out the words, and his silence only makes JJ feel like his throat is closing up. Like it’s suddenly harder to breathe. “... _ Was it? _ ”

His voice cracks with the plea and JJ would like to say he’s never felt so vulnerable in front of Pope. But that would be a lie. 

“ _ JJ _ …” Pope doesn’t say anything more than that. At least not before he’s gently touching JJ’s arm. JJ flinches because his eyes are still closed and he can’t see it coming, but Pope doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t move but he also doesn’t pull away and when JJ doesn’t either Pope’s hand slides up his arm to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into him with a gentleness that makes JJ’s bottom lip tremble. It’s not long before Pope is holding him tight against him, his chin on top of JJ’s head as they lay down together. 

“..I’m here, okay?” Is all Pope chokes out, but it’s answer enough. It’s more than enough. JJ chokes on the sound that raises in his throat at the confirmation, because he kind of wanted to hope that all of this was just some sick joke. Some figment of his imagination brought on from years of abuse and cheap weed. But of course this was just his fucked up reality instead. He can feel Pope burying his face in his hair as his arms squeeze tighter around him, and JJ is too tired and upset not to hold himself back from leaning into it. Pope doesn’t make it easy to pull away anyways. “I’ve got you, JJ...” 

Time blurs together again. JJ couldn’t tell you how long they laid there, JJ trembling like a leaf in Pope’s arms and Pope trailing gentle fingers down his back, murmuring to him soothingly in a way JJ can’t remember anyone doing ever. Not even his mother. 

He falls back asleep like that. 

He doesn’t have any dreams. 

\+ 

He wakes up to the sound of thunder and Pope’s breath rustling his hair. It’s almost unbearably warm between the comforter and their body heat, and JJ can feel the sweat dripping down his back cause of it. He’d complain but pretty sure Pope’s looking at his phone behind his head or something cause... he can feel the muscles in his arms moving and can hear a soothingly rhythmic tapping breaking the silence. And amidst it all he’s just surrounded by this  _ smell.  _ This smell of... fabric softener and books and maybe... saltwater? It smells better than his place. His place always has the sharp scent of alcohol lurking around every corner. But this is better. It’s nice.

It’s probably the nicest morning that JJ has had in a long time. So even though he can feel that droplet of sweat making its way to his ass crack and he’s pretty sure Pope just had to spit out some of his hair that ended up in his mouth, JJ… lingers in it. He relishes it. Pretends to still be asleep even for just a second. Because as stupid as it is he doesn’t want to break the peace. 

That is until he very suddenly remembers why he’s at Pope’s in the first place. And the peace is broken anyways. 

He opens his eyes the second it hits him, and his guilt could swallow him whole. Here he is, enjoying this while John B is--

Fuck, here he is enjoying this while _Pope and Kei_ _are--_

JJ clears his throat as he sheepishly but quickly unravels himself from Pope and seems to startle Pope in the process. When JJ finally completely pulls away he turns to Pope he turns to his friend to… what? Apologize? Make some sort of excuse? Honestly, he’s not fucking sure yet, but luckily he doesn’t have to figure it out. Because the moment he gets an eyeful of Pope all is forgotten as he frowns. Because the shadows under Pope’s eyes look just as dark as they did last night and the whites of them are a bit red, and--

“Fuck, dude, did you sleep at all?” JJ blurts out as he leans back to look Pope over. His eyes narrow at the unreadable twist of Pope’s lips as he moves to turn his phone towards JJ instead of answering.

“Look.” Now, JJ just woke up, and considering Pope is holding his phone about five inches from his face and demanding he  _ read  _ before he’s even brushed his teeth, you can probably guess how well he’s doing at that. That is at least until Pope is saying, “They’re forming a search party for John B and Sarah as soon as the storm clears up.” 

And that immediately halts anything else JJ planned to say in its tracks. 

“A search party?” JJ asks as he grabs the phone out of Pope’s hands in order to hold it himself and start to read through the local article himself.

“Yeah.” Pope replies quietly. JJ doesn’t even have to be looking at him to know that the words are accompanied by a solemn nod, and it’s a good thing too. At this moment he isn’t sure if he physically  _ could  _ look at anything but this article. They’ve got a picture of John B beside a picture of Sarah under the headline. It’s the same one they used for his wanted posters. 

“He could be alive.” JJ finds himself mumbling. He’s spent… so long mourning and being angry that he almost forgot about the possibility. That John B and Sarah could have made it through that storm, or if they hadn’t they could have at least not died from from it. “They… they could be fine, maybe. Just shipwrecked...” 

“We can’t find them.” JJ’s head whips up from Pope’s phone at Pope’s reply, his eyes wide at the somber look on his friend’s face. Pope says the words so... matter of factly. Like it’s something that JJ should already know. JJ wonders it what it’s like honestly, to have a brain so big that you feel like everyone else is five steps behind. 

“The fuck do you mean we can’t find them?” JJ blurts out in confusion, and Pope finally looks back up at him at that, his dark brows furrowed as he regards JJ for a few moments. 

“I mean  _ we can’t find them _ . I mean, it’d be bad for them if we do. The moment we find John B they’re going to want to arrest him and the moment we find Sarah they’re going to want to return her to her crazy murder family. Everything that they worked so hard for would be for nothing--” Pope reasons rationally, but JJ can feel his blood pressure rising despite Pope’s logic, despite some part of him knowing that Pope is probably  _ right _ . 

“And what if we don’t find him, Pope!” JJ interrupts sharply, gesturing to Pope’s window as he says, “He could be  _ dead _ !” 

“I didn’t say we weren’t going to look!” Pope snaps back, brows knitted tightly together as he glares at JJ in return. “Don’t you think I want to find him? And even Sarah? Alive and well and--” 

Pope cuts himself off then, jaw clenching as he and JJ look fiercely at each other from their respective sides of the bed. JJ doesn’t know how they got from practically being cuddle buddies to this, but he’d almost prefer this. At least it was less confusing. 

“I’m just saying.” Pope bites out slowly, giving JJ a firm look before he’s continuing, “He’s back at square one if anyone finds him. Worse than square one.” Pope shakes his head for a second before he’s sighing and saying, “Ideally, we either... find them, see they’re alive, and send them back out to continue their journey before anyone else can spot them. Or we just… don’t find bodies. And that way we can assume-- … or at least hope that he got away maybe. That they made it and he’s alive and--...” Pope pauses a second then, his eyes not meeting JJ’s. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard for a moment before shrugging and saying, “and maybe if John B is presumed dead they’ll stop looking for him.” 

JJ… can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Not from Pope. Pope was always the guy who… wanted to know how fucking microwaves worked. Or what people spat up when they died. Pope wanted to know everything, and suddenly he was okay with possibly sticking his head in the ground and never knowing what really happened to their best friend ever? 

“...Pope.” JJ says quietly, and Pope’s eyes flick to his then. For some reason they seem to be a darker shade of brown. Deeper. 

“What?” Pope asks hoarsely, and this time his shrug seems half-hearted at best. “I’m right.” 

JJ swallows thickly for a second as he stares Pope down. Half because he feels like looking away would be losing, and half cause he feels like the unreadable darkness behind Pope’s eyes has got him pinned there. “... Well, I can’t live like that. Not knowing. I want to  _ find  _ him.” 

  
  


Pope’s lips twist in what almost looks like a wince of pain at that. He brings a hand up to rub his eyes, and so he’s the first to look away. JJ almost feels relieved, but he mostly feels unsettled. “... I knew you’d say that. I knew it.” 

JJ looks away from Pope while he still can, gaze flicking to the storm still raging outside as he gruffly asks, “When’s the search party?” 

“The storm’s supposed to clear up tomorrow.” Pope replies, but JJ is already getting up before he finishes his sentence. Pope looks up at JJ in bewilderment as he goes through Pope’s room in search of his clothes, his lips pulled down into a frown as he asks, “what are you doing?” 

“Option one, right?” JJ says as he finds his now dry shirt and quickly strips off the one Pope gave him the night before. He swaps one for the other quickly, back turned to Pope until he’s poking his head out of the neckhole of his shirt. He meets Pope’s gaze as he pulls the shirt over his torso and can practically see him realizing where he’s going with this. “We find them first?” 

“JJ…” Pope replies with wide eyes, head shaking as he says, “there’s no fucking way my parents are going to be okay with that.” 

“Yeah, so, we don’t tell them.” JJ says with a shrug as he pulls off Pope’s basketball shorts, lips pulled into a frown as he bluntly says, “Simple as that.” He points to Pope’s window, brow arched as he adds, “We go through that window, get Kie, and we make our own fucking search party right here, right now.” JJ meets the stunned gaze of Pope squarely for a moment before he’s picking his pants up off the floor, scoffing and adding, “Fuck Shoupe and his pigs. The fuck does he know anyways? Probably didn’t even look properly, we--...” JJ clenches his jaw for a second as he moves to put his pants on, movements efficient as he says, “we’ll find him. We know him better than anybody else on this fucking island. We can do it.”

Pope is silent for as long as it takes for JJ to get his pants over his ass, eyes distant but filled with what JJ would almost call… admiration if it wasn’t directed at fucking him. “...You’re insane you know that?” 

“Yeah, you guys never let me forget it.” JJ mumbles as he finally buttons up his jeans, brows arching as he looks at Pope when he’s finally done. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be for whatever the hell they’re about to get themselves into, and honestly at this point that’s all he can ask for. “So? You in or not?” 

“... For fuck’s sake.” Pope says with a shake of his head, exhaling a breath that could almost be a dry laugh under different circumstances. He stares at JJ for a few more moments before he’s finally sighing and moving to get out of bed himself. “Yeah, I’m in. I mean, who knows what shit you’ll get yourself in without me?” 

JJ finally cracks a smile at that, his eyes following Pope as he moves to get his own change of clothes in preparation for their search. As Pope passes him he claps a hand on his friend's bare shoulder with a painfully affectionate, “That’s my boy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter definitely got away from me, and there are certain parts of it that i really like, and certain parts of it that i'm not the biggest fan of (fair warning, i might come back later to make some edits) but i just wanted to get it out to you lovely people as a thank you for all the love on the first chapter! i never expected this many kudos or comments on a pope/jj story so i'm so grateful! i have the next few chapters planned out so this will hopefully be a fun ride :) and i actually think i might be more comfortable writing in jj's voice so the rest of the chapters might be from jj's pov or i might still switch each chapter, i haven't decided yet but if you have any preference please comment bellow and let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> i was absolutely shook at the lack of jj/pope content out there because they're honestly my otp from the show! that said, like i said in the tags i do like the idea of a jj/pope/kie too, so this might turn into an ot3 fic, but for the time being i'm going to be the change i wanna see in the world and completely self indulgently write jj/pope content. that said, the next chapter might be from jj's pov so look forward to that!


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